


Analysis

by Snow



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Universe, Episode Related, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-22
Updated: 2008-06-22
Packaged: 2017-10-05 16:11:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snow/pseuds/Snow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This branches off during the course of Inquisition.  Dr. Bashir doesn't lose track of time, and he never does.  Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Analysis

Julian Bashir has been arrested on suspicion of treason, abducted by the Dominion, forced to make small talk with Weyoun, and for most of it he's been unable to do anything but react to the situations which are being thrown at him.

But now, waiting for Weyoun to return, Julian finally has a chance to reflect on events of the past five hours. It seems to him that Sisko hasn't been standing up for his Chief Medical Officer the way Julian would have expected him to. It appears that Julian alienated the crew more than he thought by being genetically engineered. Which is only fair; he'd been a little surprised at how cheerily they had apparently accepted him back. He should have known that not all the assurances expressed were genuine.

He is torn from his idle contemplation on matters other than his present situation by the Cardassian ship he's on shaking, and tossing him to the floor. As Kira and Worf transport in, Bashir has the presence of mind to attempt to tackle his guard, but even his genetic engineering isn't enough to make up for the simple size difference, and Julian is sent sprawling to the floor.

Julian curls into a ball, holding his arm until he determines that it's not damaged, when Worf and Kira fire at his guard and transport him back to the Defiant. Kira doesn't smile at his remark that he's glad to see her, but that's not precisely unusual for her, so Julian doesn't worry himself too much about what that might mean. But Julian would have expected Captain Sisko to be different.

"I suppose you have a reasonable explanation for why the Dominion broke you out of that holding cell," Sisko says.

"I understand how this must look, sir," Julian replies, but is interrupted before he can make it any further.

"What did they want?" Sisko demands, and Julian tries to explain. He can tell by the look on Sisko's face, though, that he's only coming across as paranoid, or desperate. Which is when the entire crew turns on him, and Julian doesn't think he can do anything but watch, and try to plea his case.

Julian grabs Miles' shoulder, and Miles shrugs him off, angry. "Your shoulder—" Julian starts. "It's all right?"

"Of course it's all right," Miles answers.

"But you dislocated it yesterday—"

Jadzia interrupts him, and Julian could believe she pities him, if it weren't for the barely-hidden disgust in her eyes. "That was two weeks ago, Julian."

Julian just looks at her. He's been on the Dominion ship for half an hour, maximum. There's no way he could have lost track of fourteen days. But if he had...

Julian prides himself on being quick to pick things up, and the evidence is overwhelmingly against him. "Perhaps you should escort me to the brig," Julian says softly, his hands falling uselessly to his sides.

"Worf," Sisko says.

"Yes sir. Julian?"

Julian leads the way to the brig, with Worf following. "Can you bring me something to eat, please?" Julian feels incredibly guilty for asking but, from a psychological standpoint, at least, he hasn't eaten for twenty-four hours. At this point, Julian would be happy to eat gagh. Or a ration bar, which is what he's given. Julian thanks Worf politely, even though he knows the security officer could have chosen a better meal. And then he sits down in the center of the cell to wait, for whatever happens next. He can do this, he figures. Until the other Federation doctors figure out a way to remove the subconscious triggers the Dominion must have implanted in his brain. Waiting in the Defiant's cell can't be worse than Dominion solitary.

He's very wrong, of course. Because the very definition of solitary precludes the kind of disappointment Julian can see in his fellow senior staff. Former. Kira is the first person to visit him, and he can't bring himself to make eye contact with her. She leaves after a short while, without saying a word.

Julian looks up, almost letting out a sigh of relief, before he notices Jadzia standing there. "I don't know why you'd..." she starts.

Julian easily swallows the urge to say something cruel and hurtful, because that's never been who he is. But he doesn't have an explanation, not for Jadzia, and not for himself. "I don't remember anything," he says instead.

Jadzia softens a little at this, but the accusation remains in her eyes. "I'm sure the Federation will put some great people on this, to make you better."

Julian nods. Never mind that he still doesn't feel broken, because he also doesn't feel like betraying the best chance humanity has ever had to make the most of their potential.

"I should get back to the bridge," Jadzia says after a moment of silence, and Julian wonders why she bothered coming down. Was she trying to express support? Or did she just want to see if she could tell that he was a traitor by looking at him?

Julian tried numerous times to get some sleep, but he never gets more than ten minutes before being interrupted again. He spends some time reflecting that sleep deprivation is a fairly reliable method of making people say things they wouldn't want to, but dismisses the idea as an insane result of that same sleep deprivation.

It's seven hours between his rescue from the Dominion ship, and his transfer to the USS Lemoine, a smaller ship, and one with Investigator Sloan aboard. Julian spends a lot of time listening to Sloan talk, and being cataloged by the ship counselor. He tells Sloan everything he can think of, and then he finds ways to tell the man even more.

Julian tells the story of every friend he'd had who had been lost to this war to the counselor, and he tells the story of every observation he's ever had about Dominion strategy and every theory he's ever had about how to defeat them to Sloan.

And then he sleeps. He's midway through his second hour when Julian wakes to Sloan's laughter. It's not maniacal, or gentle, it's just laughter. And when Julian opens his eyes, he doesn't see a brig anymore. "Good morning," Sloan says, and while Julian is glancing around frantically, trying to figure out where he is, one of Sloan's men puts something behind Julian's right ear. The man is gone while Julian's still considering putting up a hand to stop him. He's never been a morning person.

"Where am I?" Julian asks, because he can't figure it out on his own.

"The Lemoine," Sloan answers, "Same place you've been for the last three days."

Julian is sure he hasn't been on the ship for that long, but he doesn't ask another question. After all, he's already proven that he can lose track of time after all.

Sloan looks up from a scanner. "Your loyalty to the Federation appears to be above reproach, Doctor," Sloan says.

Julian can't figure out how that follows logically from _anything_ that's happened in the last two and a half weeks. Sloan's not giving Julian an explanation, which means Julian will have to work it out himself. Julian puts a hand up to his right ear. "Neuro-synaptic relay?" he guesses, based on its position and Sloan's reaction to the information on it.

"Very good Doctor," Sloan answers, clearly waiting for more.

Julian looks at the walls. "A holodeck?"

"In essence, yes."

"How much of it was a lie? Weyoun? Jadzia? My...involvement?"

"You've never collaborated with the Dominion," Sloan says, and Julian is grateful enough for that kindness that he doesn't focus on how much Sloan has destroyed the world he knew. "And it's only been three days. We beamed you out of your quarters the night before your scheduled departure to Casperia Prime."

"I see," Julian manages to say calmly. "You said my loyalty has been proven. This was a test?"

"You passed with flying colors," Sloan replied, smiling. "It's not often that I'm wrong. I belong to a branch of Starfleet intelligence, and based on your results I believe you might be amenable to working with me."

"What?"

"You've shown admirable strength of character over the last three days, as well as a willingness to put the good of the Federation above yourself, even when you don't fully agree with how the situation is working out. It's people like you that the Federation needs, and you could do so much more good as a member of Section 31 than as a mere doctor, out of view of most of the Federation."

"Section 31?" Julian asks. The name doesn't sound familiar.

"Like I said," Sloane replies, "a branch of Starfleet intelligence."

"And what would I do as part of Section 31?"

"Work with me to uphold the principles of the Federation. I'm not sure the precise circumstances you would participate in, but I'm sure you would be of use."

Julian is too tired and too emotionally worn out to give the matter as much thought as it deserves, but he can tell Sloan wants an answer now. And Julian welcomes the idea of being able to do something to rid himself of the lingering sensation of being a traitor. "Yes," he says. "I'll do it."

"Excellent," Sloan replies. "I'll be in contact."

**Author's Note:**

> I welcome and appreciate all kinds of comments, though I would (obviously) prefer if any criticism was constructive. :)


End file.
